# 4 — Turning 30: Part 2 (Poison Control)

Did you all know that alocasia plants have toxic sap upon skin contact, and even deadly if ingested?

Two days into turning 30 I was working from home when I remembered the big brown spots forming on one of our houseplant’s leaves. I looked up how to treat it, grabbed a pair of scissors and pruned the sick leaf’s stem when I immediately noticed a glistening sap oozing out. It reminded me of aloe, so I squeezed the stem and rubbed its juices all over my hands and face. Moisturizing!!

Right after I did I vaguely remembered seeing a little info card when Daniel and I were at the plant store that said something like “Toxic to pets!”. Hm… maybe I should google this real quick.

Once again I took to google and looked up “alocasia plant sap on skin”… as I read a horror story about a woman who came into contact with one of these plants and had to go to the hospital I began to feel burning and itching on my face and hands. Shit.

No no no no no I thought, this can’t be happening, I have an improv show tonight! (Lol, yes, that was my thought.) I did also slightly worry that, maybe, I needed to call 911. “Harmful if ingested”, the Internet said… Was ingestion only if you ate it or did that include skin contact too? I rinsed my skin with water and dishwashing liquid because one website said it would cut through the grease. I wasn’t sure if it was the right move, but I took a Benadryl to be safe too. I texted Daniel to let him know what was happening and called the Poison Control hotline.

They were very helpful and asked what I did. I told them about the Benadryl, and the dishwashing liquid…

“What?? DISHWASHING liquid? Noooo no no, that’s an irritant, just use REGULAR soap”, the operator said. Surely, and fairly, this woman really thought I was a dumbass now. She told me I’d be okay, and just not to touch my eyes or mouth, because that would really be an issue and would feel like, in her words, NEEDLES.

The Benadryl really took me out of it, and on top of that I had gotten my period, so I was all-around tired. As I fought (and failed) falling asleep, I couldn’t believe how stupid I was. And yet, I could. I thought back to a few nights before at my birthday dinner with a group of friends, my parents, and Daniel where we had brought a birthday cake he woke up early that morning to go get. We handed our server the candles and waited to sing ‘happy birthday’ when moments later he was bringing out plates with the cake — already sliced. We all gasped. “Wait, the candles!” we cried out. After singing, I asked our server if there were any parts of the cake left that weren’t sliced because I never got to see what it looked like or said as a whole, to which he cooly responded, “Oh, it just said ‘30’.”

I laughed. I teared up a little. Any other year I would think it was a hilarious mistake, but that night as I laid wide-awake in bed, I kept hearing that phrase over and over.

It just said ‘30’.

Was this a metaphor? A lesson? Was I supposed to take this as a positive hakuna matata-esque mantra for the rest of my 30s, or as punishment for the mistakes of my past? As my mind played out a montage of miscellaneous guilt I hold, the latter theory seemed more probable, and I spent the night spiraling.

But that morning, the morning of my actual birthday, I woke up to party decorations my mom had spent the night hanging up, and flowers and fruit my dad ran out to get. I put on a Neil Young record as we sipped on our coffee and ate breakfast before getting ready for the day. We had plans to go to Sojo Spa, where I’d been once before and knew how amazing it was, but I still found it hard to relax on the drive over. I asked Daniel if we could play some music as a distraction, and for some I felt the urge to listen to John Mayer’s “Where the Light Is: Live in Los Angeles” album. Eventually I calmed down, especially from smiling all day watching the look on my mom and dad’s faces as they experienced “ice saunas” and “hydro-massages”. It was like watching newborn babies try things, and I felt such a joy and gratitude we were all together, and fortunate to be able to luxuriate in that way, which I know not everyone can.

Sorry, I know this was a long one! I guess a lot got built up and I just needed to process all of these highs and lows, as my friend Lizzy so forgivingly described the past events of this week. I’ll keep the next ones shorter, and more about the things I’m looking forward to (like releasing my next single!!) 💌